Secondly, if you consider the exquisite design and seamless functionality of this website, you may be stunned to learn that I actually suck at technology. For example, I have one of those smartphones, and I sometimes use it to read the New York Times. However, no matter how many virtual toggle switches I toggle I cannot get the stupid "app" not to flash me little alerts when big news stories break. For example, when Hillary Clinton's head was about to explode, my phone kept updating me on her condition. Now, I wish Hillary Clinton nothing but the best, but I don't need updates popping up on my phone screen while I'm busy trying to take pictures of my genitals to send to people who say mean things about me on Twitter. It really takes me out of the moment.

At the very least though, it seemed like when the New York Times would flash me a news update it would be about something really important, like Hillary Clinton's head is a ticking time bomb, or the House of Representatives has finally voted to procrastinate for a few more months--until Friday night, when my phone starts telling me this:

Is he admitting it? No. Is he saying he's thinking about admitting it? No. Someone else who won't say who they are is saying that Lance Armstrong is thinking about admitting he took drugs.

Lance Armstrong confessing is a big, juicy story. Lance Armstrong "weighing" a confession is not a story, at least not that warrants a "breaking news" alert akin to the Secretary of State's head exploding. It's more of a current events cock tease. Does anybody in the world think he hasn't been weighing it? I'm sure Hillary Clinton also weighed whether or not to bite her husband's penis off during the Monica Lewinsky scandal, and in fact she's probably still weighing it, but I never saw the New York Times publish a story about that--though obviously if she actually goes through with it that would warrant a banner headline.

It must be nice to be able to use the New York Times to build buzz for your upcoming book:

“Cycle of Lies will prove definitively that his [Armstrong] extraordinary career had nothing to do with the bike,” David Hirshey, HarperCollins’ executive editor, told the Post.

Yeah, right, nothing at all. I'm looking forward to seeing how this book manages to prove that Lance Armstrong never rode a bicycle.

(So I guess what I'm really saying is, "How do you turn the fucking alerts off on the New York Times app?")

But that's only because nobody from "The Young Ones" ever managed to catch on in America. The closest any of them ever came was Rik, who was in that movie "Right Said Fred" or whatever with Phoebe Cates:

(That's Rik, not Phoebe Cates.)

I actually saw the Fred movie in the theater because I was the kind of teenager who really liked British TV shows (a huge dork, in other words), and as I recall it was basically just Rik running around looking like John Lydon.

Although it performed poorly at the US box office, it became Working Title's first financial hit and was (for a time) the most successful independent film ever released in Australia.

Because Australians will laugh at absolutely anything with wild red hair:

If you ever want to smuggle a bunch of drugs and guns into Australia, just flash one of these at customs:

You'll saunter right in as they're doubled over with incapacitating mirth.

Anyway, according to Sayle, aluminum is actually more compliant than The Crabon:

To ride, the Aston feels like many other high-end, carbon racing bikes, much stiffer than the alloy frame I own, transmitting every bump straight up your arms...

That's enough to get you killed over at "Bicycling."

By the way, 25,000lbs may seem like a lot to pay for a Fred sled, but just keep in mind that you get this enormous monochromatic display that looks like a universal remote from the late 1990s:

Yeah, that's way cleaner than an iPhone mount.

Of course, if you're a huge Fred a phenomenally expensive bicycle can be just the motivation you need to keep you riding through the winter--unless you live in Florida where they don't have winter, in which case I feel sorry for you (because you live in Florida, not because you don't have winter), or unless you live someplace where the winter is on the wrong side of the calendar, like Australia, in which case this:

(Gotcha!)

The three people in Australia who read this blog are laughing so hard they'll be calling in sick for the rest of the week.

But what if you live in someplace like Portland, where they have sort of a half-assed winter? How do Portlanders stay motivated? Well, as a reader informs me, they write poetry:

Yes, if this doesn't keep you riding than you might as well just take the bus:

MOVIE REVIEW! I rented Premium Rush this weekend. It is not bad. Not great. No bad. It is slow in parts. The out of sequence narrative is only semi-successful. The stunts are great and the acting pretty good. Joseph Gordon-Levitt gets hit by a lot of cars.

My son did extensive research on what pair of headphones he should buy (he's thorough that way). He says, succinctly, "Beats suck." He asked a friend of his why he was wearing Beats and he basically said he knew they sucked, but he was wearing them as a fashion accessory.

Rule #42 // A bike race shall never be preceded with a swim and/or followed by a run... one should only swim in order to prevent drowning, and should only run if being chased. And even then, one should only run fast enough to prevent capture.

Conga ratulations on recalling that Fat Bastard, landlord to the lads and generally threatening presence. 'Didn't you kill my bruvver?'. Though I suspect that you have forgotten and written Rik with out the silent 'P'.

On a cultural note, Ostrayans refer to those afflicted with the red as 'rangas'. And Mr Snob is absolutely correct, Ostrayans find so much mirth in the condition that the current elected PM is one of those.

It's so quaint to see the sentimental use of the old temperatures of F. Still using enches, foots, furlongs and pounts Is so harking unto the past. Progress is so overrated.

You obviously have never experienced the joy of that moment when your fingers slip beneath the elastic, sliding over the slight swell of the Mons Veneris and gently finding their way to the moist crevice; as you part it, she arches her back and moans.

Snob: go to Settings, look for Notifications on the left. The BYT app should be in the list somewhere, tap on it. "Notification Center" is the thing that shows up when you swipe down from the top of the screen, which is probably not something you care about. "Alert Style" is the thing that's been bugging you.

NY TIMES go to settings and uncheck alerts and pop ups. Or on the fancy ass New York phones you can probably set a news filter level so that only Lance stories above say, him getting assaulted by a cycling group and ass raped with a carbon seatpost would appear. Or anything worse of course.

And we now all have to dump our BikeSnob books for triple the price on ebay after calling said Bike Snob author something nasty here. Asshat. Gun lover. Your mama. I don't know, I just don't feel it. Think I'll keep my book.

if I remember correctly both Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry made appearances on young ones...while no one would claim they're as well recognized as a certain former pro cyclist who's lost at least seven things that he won I would say they've both made significant inroads to being recognised at a Wal-Mart.

I live in the Pacific Northwest and I think technically the darkest time of year is December, like it is in the rest of the Northern Hemisphere. But here in Seattle we have electricity so that makes it perhaps more bearable.

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About Me

While I love cycling and embrace it in all its forms, I'm also extremely critical. So I present to you my venting for your amusement and betterment. No offense meant to the critiqued. Always keep riding!